


Birth day

by LittleSpider



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Origin Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 05:49:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1053238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSpider/pseuds/LittleSpider
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natalia Romanova has been broken down, rebuilt and made fit for purpose again by SHIELD...</p>
<p>But a midnight visitor brings something that can't be gift wrapped.</p>
<p>Hope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birth day

Natalia sat on the bunk of her new room. It wasn't quite a cell. It wasn't quite home. It was a room, with a bed, a chair, a table, and not much else.

But it was safe.

6 months of interrogation, deprogramming, relearning, counseling,therapy that started in the blazing heat of June had led her here.

Sat, very much broken and rebuilt on the edge of the mattress to her cot she watched the wall clock tick its way to midnight.

Silence outside in the corridor, minimum guards, no personnel to chat to, not that anyone wanted to talk to her.

An hour earlier Agent Coulson had dropped by to offer his felicitations for the season and mentioned he was heading home to see his brother and sister in law and their little daughter, his niece and gave her his phone number if she needed to discuss anything,

She took it with a nod and discarded it on the table as soon as he had left.

Fury had placed her here, to stay on site for the time being while he 'arranged' for her to have a place in the civilian world.

_>_

Feeling miserable, she prepared to stand and head for a shower when the door opened.

She picked up her towel and stared at the person who had come in.

"...hey."

It was Barton.

He had introduced her to this circus. His stupid expression, ridiculous American accent, foolish stuck up hair.

"...don't you have a family to pester...?" she said cuttingly.

He always moved with unease when she spoke. Was her accent TOO good for a Russian national?

"...no. Dead." he smiled sheepishly. "Look...I was asked to check in on you, make sure you had everything you needed--"

"The prisoner is comfortable, thank you. Agent Barton."

"It's more comfortable than a body bag... _Romanov_."

She pinned him with a stare. _Who the fuck did he think he was?_

Shrugging, he leaned against the doorpost before throwing a badge down on the table.

"This is your new ID. Gets you pretty much anywhere in the building. You've started at level 5."

"What level are you?"

"Six." he responded. "Means i get to use the nice can once in a while..."

The joke was lost on her as she examined the ID, snatching it from the desk.

"...This is not my name." she began darkly.

"We figured you'd want a new life." he began, a frail smile building on his cheeks, something short of apologetic. "...beauty of being broken down is you get to fix yourself when you get repaired...right?"

She thumbed the badge, running her thumb across the unfamiliar name.

"...Natasha Romanoff..."

"Like it?" he grinned. "I had a little input."

"...Romanoff is a male last name." she remarked.

"...yeah?" he asked, an edge of discomfort masked with slight embarrassment "Well...think of the shock you'll give the mortician when he sees whats in the body bag..."

Natasha looked to him and gave him an indulgent look. This man irritated her very spirit, but his lousy sense of humour somewhat eased it.

"I appreciate the gesture."

"So...do I call you Natalia? Or...Natalie? Or...Natasha, maybe?" he smiled, gesturing.

"...Natasha will do."

Barton smiled and nodded.

"Well, see you around...this place does a great vacuum packed Turkey and Cranberries...or maybe I might sneak you out, take you to McDonalds.Never too early to start naturalizing you. Who knows...see ya tomorrow...Romanoff."

With a smile, he rolled himself away from the door and away down the corridor.

Natasha half smiled and examined the new ID before running her thumb across the new name again.

It had been many a year since she had received a birthday present..or at least one on her REAL birthday. But this small ID card. Or at least what it meant, given to her by that blonde haired buffoon with the bow and arrow...

It was something special.

After all, it was not every day that you got a new life.


End file.
